Monday, March 1, 2021

The Road So Far

A year ago today, I looked at my friend as we saddled up into the truck to trek down a mountain through the snow. We had just spent the weekend snowed in; woodsmoke drifted in our wake.
 
"This is the prologue to the science fiction novel," I said as the seatbelt clicked home. 
 
His brows drew together. I knew he was taking me seriously, and that what I said left him feeling a little uncomfortable. "You really think?" The engine thrummed to life as he turned the key in the ignition.
 
I watched the snow blow down from the rooftop in the wind, swirling as though a new flurry was upon us. "Yeah. I do," I replied.
 
"What do you want to do?" He was still looking at me, the truck in park.
 
"Go to Robert's until this is over."
 
We didn't, of course. We couldn't. I could almost feel him ready to put the truck in gear and take me anywhere, and my heart broke just a little as we said, in unison, "Light Morning is decommissioned."
 
The truck tires crunched delicately on the snow as we pulled out onto the road, pointed down the mountain and back towards the city.